Lyrics Yo Gotti – Live From The Kitchen

One them name mr. pirex, mr. pot, mr. baking soda,
Know wha I mean, ha
It go live from the kitchen
Li-li-live from the kitchen, its me an my bands
Live from the kitchen, its me an my bands
Baking soda, test tube, pot, and the pan
Live from the kitchen, well over do
Ten mixtapes state I got a porsche sedan coupe,
Yeah that bitch got four doors,
I got four hoes on my screwed up click shit
Got me tippin on four fours
Yeah them knocks ran in my spot
Them bitches kicked down both doors
Confiscated both my choppers an took pitures of both stoves
Gang tags been on my ass, yeah they raided both my shows
Say I’m wearin too much white, I told em I represent dat blow
From the kitchen, li-li-live from the kitchen
It just me an my bands, shit get for real
Niggas start playin, I dont need a hundred niggas
It just me an my man bap
Two deep in that rega, red beam on that eagle
You can die about it, but you fight bout it
Niga ye ain’t goin witt me neither
Live from the kitchen it just a statement
Got that kush shit by the bells
An bitch I’m live from the basement

Got that purp in I can taste it
My time don’t you waste it
Niggas think they can start some beef
An then come back an erase it
I got benjamin on my faces, I got lawyers fightin my cases
You know me vs war bugs bunnys in my braclet
Bitch I’m live from the jeweler, I am, just bought a rolla
An pin .. is you a dealer or a user
Wrist abuser, baby momma had it great
She like street niggas, she say I amuse her
Live from the kitchen, li-li-live from the kitchen
Fuckin bitches on tha dishes,
Bent her over on tha counter,
Right in front the money counter, (chee)
Kept her layin angainst tha fridgerator
Incase I get some anal
Thats a old word, I got old birds
I got old breads an these bitches small heads
I don’t trust niggas, I say they all feds (they is)
We at war wit niggas, an I want em all dead!
Live from the kitchen, li-li-live from the kitchen
It just me an my bands, pots, pans, pots an pans
Li-live from the kitchen, it just me an my band
When the beat break down let tha money machine roll
I been on tha road doin nothin but cash shows
It juss, li-i, it just me an my bands
Live from tha kitchen, it just me an my man-zilla
What it do young nigga, we got our money right
Plus you got tha green light killa
At tha kitchen table playin dominoes
With some munich niggas, an some shiizty hoes, bitch
They smoke hella blunts, they play wit they nose
They get super high, then they take off they clothes
These hoes gun freaky I make em touch they toes
Ask’d her where she want it at, an she say both holes
Nah bitch I just want some mouth
Gimme some head right here on tha couch
I’m goin north bitch you goin south
I’m Y-O-G-O-T-T-I-. bitch you know what I’m bout
Gotti! from tha kitchen,
Li-li-live from the kitchen, it just me an my bands
I am, me an my bands, I am, me an my bands, I am
Live from the kitchen it just me an my bands, I am
…beep, its all there… beep, (li-li-live from the kitchen, li-li-live from the kitchen me an my bands, me an my bands)